The Final Battle
by Bored Seraph
Summary: The battle of an age draws to a close, how will it end? Little one shot Please R&R.


DISCLAIMER: This story was not written by me, it was written by one of my friends who wanted me to upload it. Enjoy :D

Another branch snapped off and the wind carried it through the air, helpless. Leaves whirled around in a mad craze and the aged trees groaned desperately, trying to stay in the ground. Flashes of lightning split the sky in two, and a shadow, along in the fury of the storm, battered and beaten, pressed onwards. Its paws danced on the ground like the soft pitter patter of rain on a calm night. The creature looked behind, then dashed on holding onto its prize through clenched teeth, breath coming in short foggy clouds, which was scattered by the wind's howling breath. Now it made a final sprint, heading towards the shadowy stronghold, which was slowly emerging from the darkened forest.

The cloaked figure knelt down on the soft ground and placed a leather bound hand to the faint paw imprint. It was still warm. He eyed the horizon, slowly standing up, without making a sound. A second figure, bound in heavy amour, which was like a second skin, walked out of the shadows, the hulking figure towering over the cloaked man, axe slung over his shoulder. His fiery red eyes met his comrade's calm green eyes. "Tonight," he said between clenched teeth, "Our enemies will fall."

The narrow halls of the shadowed stronghold were deathly silent as the cloaked figure snuck through; as one with the shadows. His companion followed behind, uneasily looking around, gleaming axe ready to strike and foe foolish enough to attack. The end of the hallway abruptly stopped, opening into a wide room, empty except for the stone circle at the far end. They looked around. There was a ledge, not far from them; where any attacker could prepare an ambush. The plated figure sniffed the air, checking for the scent of foes. He was about to jump down into the room, when a bright flash filled his vision. They jumped back, shocked by the sudden light. Upon a high platform which they had not seen, stood a figure draped in robes, chanting in a language unknown to them. The cloaked man whispered to his companion, then vanished into thin air. The plated figure took a deep breath, holding his axe as if to draw strength from it, and let out a bloodcurling cry as he jumped into the room. He turned to face the robed person, who looked down, surprised. Removing one hand from the axe he summoned a twisting chain of dark energy which wrapped itself around the figure like a python, ripping him from the platform. Axe raised, he roared in victory, in ending this things pathetic existence, but the roar turned to a cry of anger and pain as sharp claws ripped across his back, sundering the armour. The robed figure crashed to the ground, but instead of finishing him the armoured figure turned around to see what had dared attack him. The cat like creature jumped back, preparing another attack, still holding the treasure in its mouth, the stolen treasure. As much as this made his blood boil, he turned back to the robed figure, who was struggling to get up off the ground, gasping for air. He had to strike now. Raising his axe, he roared as it fell down upon its target. The armoured figure laughed wickedly as the body crumpled to the ground, then started choking as all the air rushed from his lungs, choking him, and the claws retracted from his side. His legs, once strong as tree trunks, now felt like water and buckled beneath him. All his life was gone by the time he hit the floor, axe clattering to the ground beside the body. The creature looked at it in disgust, still holding the treasure.

From the ledge, the cloaked figure saw his comrades' heroic death. It would not have been in vain. He would avenge him and claim the stolen treasure. Quietly, he jumped down behind the creature, eyes full of hate and loathing. The creature did not hear the unsheathing of the sword until it was too late. Its body collapsed on the ground, lifeless. The cloaked figure smiled. He had done it. Victory was theirs.

He unleashed the call into the night sky:

"CAP IT!"


End file.
